WISHBONE (27 page)

Throughout the evening, he occasionally wondered what Rachael was up to and what he might have to contend with next. Her behavior was no longer conventional and anything could set her off in a second. There was little he could do in the condition he was in and he was fast concluding that his only choices were to be cooperative while waiting out the healing process;
or
to convince Rachael,
or Sarah,
to wish him whole again.

The evening news ended and Sarah sat on the floor against the wall and hummed. She had remained there for hours calmly entertaining herself and perhaps keeping watch over him. She never looked up at the television nor uttered a sound his way, but appeared to be perfectly content to banter softly to herself for hours on end. Julien’s best guess was that the girl suffered from autism. He suddenly felt sorry for her, sitting there in her own little world. He found his wallet on the nightstand beneath the hospital paperwork and removed a quarter.

“Sarah, come here,” he urged, giving he a playful smile. 

Sarah rose and came close to the bed. He patted the mattress and she sat. She spotted the quarter gleaming in his hand and grabbed for it.

“Eh! No, no,” he teased. “Wait.”  

Sarah blushed and settled back, easily taken in by his charm. 

Julien performed the oldest trick in the book,
and the only one he knew
. He passed the quarter from hand to hand eventually tucking it between two fingers and revealing what appeared to be empty palms. 

Sarah’s eyes grew wide; her brow furrowed. She reached out and grabbed his hands, searching for the quarter. Julien sensed she was about to get angry. He got her attention again and as he reached toward her face, she shrank back.

“Voila!” he said, pulling the quarter down from her ear.

Sarah’s expression changed and she squealed. Again she grabbed for his hand, only this time he allowed her to take the coin.

Rachael entered the room to find Julien laughing and Sarah grinning from ear to ear. She paused in the doorway, eyeing them suspiciously.

“Our Sarah enjoys my very pathetic tricks,” he admitted.

Rachael ignored him. “Sarah, wash up and go to bed.”

Sarah fell sullen, but hastily got to her feet. She paused for a brief moment, appearing torn between defiantly sitting back down beside him and obediently scurrying past Rachael. She opted for the latter and disappeared into the hall. Rachael closed the door behind her with a bit more force than was necessary and shut the overhead light en route to the bathroom.

Julien turned the television off, leaving the room illuminated only by the bedside lamp beside him. 

Rachael returned wearing one of his white tee shirts and crawled into bed.  He waited, wondering if she would turn her back to him and go to sleep or want to talk as she used to. He shut off the light, hoping the darkness would give them the confidence to speak their minds. 

She patted her pillow a few times and turned onto her side, facing him in the subtle glow of the moonlight. 

“How do you feel?” she asked kindly.

She is very crazy.

“I took the pills,” he responded.

She pulled the blanket up to her chin. “Good. It’s about time you did something we told you to do.”

“You confuse me,” he confessed.

“How?” she asked. 

He wanted to laugh at her question, but stopped himself. He turned his upper body as best he could to face her.

“How can I convince you to forgive me?” He fed her a small, submissive crumb.

She lifted her hand and Julien tensed. She brushed the hair from his eyes then ran her thumb tenderly across his lips.  He took her hand from his face and held it held it close to his chest.

“Jules,” she whispered. “It really is going to be alright.” 

“Is it? We can fix…” he stammered, afraid to remind her of their previous conversations, “…repair the damage
I have caused
between us?”

Rachael took her hand back and Julien worried he had laid it on too thick.

Tone it down.

He asked, “What is the matter?” 

“Jules, I know how you really feel.”

“No, I have had time to think.” He stopped and turned onto his back once again. “Never mind, you won’t believe me.”

Rachael came up on one elbow and placed her hand on his arm. “No, I’m listening,” she countered. “Go on.”

“It is no use,” he conceded, as he gestured in the dark. “You and I can no longer talk of things. You feel I am always
up to somethings
.” He manipulated her as he sometimes had throughout the years.

“Julien, just talk to me,” she urged, a reminiscent child-like whine crept into her voice. “I’m listening to you. Tell me.”

He spoke in a reluctant manner, “I don’t know…I am just thinking a lot and, for instance, the baby…what is my issue with the baby? It was stupid of me,” he paused, “and I apologize.”

“You’re serious?” she asked suspiciously.

“Yes,” he said emphatically. “I don’t know what my problems is sometimes.” 

He looked toward the window as if he were too embarrassed to face her. 

He continued, “I think sometimes, I am always wanting to be in control like a freak.  I don’t know…”

Rachael inched closer to him. “Control freak,” she corrected him kindly. 

Julien turned back to look at her now.

“Julien, she’s such a good baby.” Rachael grinned, her stark white teeth glistening in the moonlight as she gushed over their child. “She hardly cries, and she’s so smart,” she said thoughtfully. “She looks so much like you, have you noticed?”

Julien nodded and smiled faintly. “Will you allow me to spend more time with her?” he asked.

“Of course,” Rachael agreed emphatically. “I want you to bond with her, but with everything that has gone on between us and…well, yes, of course you can spend time with Jessica. She’s your daughter.”

“My daughter,” he repeated the words thoughtfully.

Rachael grinned and laid her head on his shoulder. “Oh Jules, I really do want to find a way to trust you again.”

“I hope so.” He found her hand resting on his chest and took it into his own. “We can work it out, no?” he asked.

“Let’s see how things go and maybe we can speed up your recovery a bit.”

Julien’s heart suddenly sank. He thought he could get her to comply, but she was being cautious; he feared pushing her too hard. 

“I’m really sorry about the other day,” Rachael offered. “Hurting you like that.”

The memory of her jerking at the framework attached to him flashed before his eyes and instantly his stomach ached. 

It wasn’t her.

She’s not herself.

He uttered words that he sadly felt were lies, “I know you are sorry.”

“You sound better,” she said, more to console herself. 

Julien did not respond. His enthusiasm was waning and he felt himself lapsing back into a depression. 

Rachael must have sensed his change. She lifted her head to have a better look at him. “You okay?”

“Tired,” he responded, though he really wanted to ask her how she could condone keeping him this way.   

Rachael snuggled up to him again. Quickly, she fell asleep, as Julien lay staring into the darkness.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Julien smiled at the baby, the two playing on a chaise lounge beside the pool. He could not help but be in awe of her. Jessica lay on her back gazing up at him with bright eyes, nestled on a pillow between his legs and, for only the second time in her short life, she smiled.

“Eh! You are smiling at Papa again, no? Fais dodo, mon amour. This is nap time, okay?” 

Her fingers curled around a portion of the framework attached to his leg; he gently pried her fingers free.

“Ah, but you are very much your mother’s daughter, no?” He found little humor in his own joke and sighed. He picked her up and sat back, resting the baby against his chest, where she nuzzled the side of his neck, sending a ticklish chill down his back.

Sarah and Rachael returned with a picnic basket. It had been nearly two weeks since they last discussed the possibility of wishing him mobile and while Rachael had immediately entrusted him with their daughter, she had yet to comply with his miraculous recovery—
nor allow him anywhere near a wishbone.

Sarah began unpacking the food while Rachael gave Jessica’s bottle a thorough shake. 

“Here, let me have her,” she took the baby from Julien.

Sarah placed a sandwich beside him. He could smell the chicken in the basket and examined his sandwich immediately.

Ham.
 

He took a bite.

Before she could finish her bottle, Jessica fell asleep in Rachael’s arms.

“I’m going to bring her in for a nap. Be right back.” Rachael moved lazily, exhausted by the baby’s ever-changing schedule and refusal to sleep through the night as she had in the beginning.

Julien checked his phone again. In his weak attempt to find some normalcy in daily life, he had tried to return to work using Rachael’s laptop and putting in two bids for ad-copy a few days earlier. It was too soon to have heard back, but he was hopeful nonetheless, and longing for a diversion. 

He placed the phone down on the table beside him and took another bite of the sandwich.  His eyes fell on the basket beside Sarah, sitting open on the ground.

The chicken.

How they eat nothing but…

Julien watched Sarah gleefully gnawing on a drumstick with grease-slathered lips. He had been flawless in his compliance with Rachael’s set of rules, and yet she continued to keep him vulnerable and limited by the device on his leg. In quiet moments, alone with his thoughts, he knew he couldn’t keep up the act forever. He figured it would be six months before he would heal fully; if nature took its course. The thought of living as they were, pretending it never happened, was unacceptable. The bone infection now at bay, he was feeling stronger; more confident,
less
fearful
, and the wishbone was there in the basket enticing him. If he made an attempt and failed, he risked losing all the headway he had gained in good behavior with Rachael; if he succeeded…

This could be my only chance.

Whatever happens to me…at the least, I try…

“Sarah, the chicken…” He motioned for her to push the basket closer to him. He watched her narrow her eyes and tilt her head quizzically. “It’s okay,” he encouraged. “Rachael’s upstairs. Push it here.” There wasn’t much time to convince her.

Sarah looked from the chicken to Julien’s outstretched hand and back again. She put down the drumstick and touched the basket, resting her hand on its edge.

“That’s it, Sarah. Good girl. Don’t you want to play with me?” Julien glanced up at the bedroom window.

Hurry up, Sarah. 

Do as I say!

“Sarah, come on, sweetie,” he said, leaning as far to the side as he could, stretching for the basket until he feared the lounge chair would topple.

“She’ll never know,” he whispered. He looked deep into her eyes and knowingly lied to the girl. His voice cracked as his nerves got the best of him. “Please?” he whimpered, knowing Rachael could turn the corner, returning at any second.

Sarah inched the basket toward him, wary. When it was hardly close enough, he lurched forward and grabbed for its edge. Sarah gripped his arm, but Julien dug his fingers into the breast of the bird, tearing the wishbone free in one quick move; the remainer of the bird, broken, hanging half over the baskets side. He held it in his hand now; Sarah crawled forward scraping her knees along the cement and again grabbing tight to his arm—now with both hands. He held the bone out of her reach and glanced back at the house.

He needed Sarah to cooperate without hesitation. He looked into her eyes. He could see her confusion and fear. “Sarah, please,” he begged. 

She looked in the direction where Rachael had disappeared from view.

He positioned the bone between them and Sarah stared at it, her eyes slightly crossed by the close proximity.

“Take it, Sarah,” he coaxed. “Play with me.” He began formulating his wish. His mind, muddled by panic; his thoughts were like a minefield, swirling with potential variables. His eyes fell upon the metal apparatus, like a birdcage encasing his leg. He looked back to Sarah whose eyes were wide as saucers. He grabbed her wrist tightly with a tremulous grip. Sarah shrank back and fought to pull away from him, but he forced her hand to the wishbone.

“Sarah, we don’t have time!” He was close to giving up, but Rachael would see the bone and mangled bird and it was too late to quit now. “It’s okay, Sarah. Please, you are my special girl, right? You and me, Sarah, no?”

         He broke out in a cold sweat; his heart raced. If she did not comply, Rachael would come upon the sight and his punishment would be unfathomable.

 “Please…?” his voice broke and he let go of her wrist.

She won’t do it.

There is no use.

Sarah, seeing his dismay, suddenly took hold of the bone. He looked down at his leg, his hand shaking uncontrollably. He closed his eyes tightly.
.

He opened his eyes.

Tink!

Peripherally, Julien spotted Rachael rushing toward them. She dropped the baby monitor, which shattered in pieces against the cement. Julien braced himself for her attack just as his cell phone rang.

Rachael grabbed for it before Julien knew what was happening—
what has he done?

She tried to reassure herself that if he held the larger half of the bone, she and Sarah could immediately set things right once again. The only thing Julien had succeeded in doing was destroying her trust in him for good. Sarah—she was another story.   

Julien looked down at the bone in his hand then to Sarah’s smaller half. Rachael violently grabbed the bone from his fingers as the phone continued to ring in her other hand. Furious, she answered it.

Julien saw her eyes go vacant and she turned her back to him.